


Preface to a Meeting

by crookedneighbour



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Dubious Consent, M/M, Older Man/Younger Man, Power Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-27 21:41:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15033893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedneighbour/pseuds/crookedneighbour
Summary: Roose sates Robb before a meeting. For asoiafrarepairs and emmaliza.





	Preface to a Meeting

**Author's Note:**

  * For [emmaliza](https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmaliza/gifts).



> Prompt: Robb x Roose. Robb trust so much in Roose because Roose is fucking him, on his desk, on the floor, against the wall, everywhere, even when his bannermen are waiting outside his tent.
> 
> I want to write another version of the prompt fill but this is the first one.

Robb had been a fierce conquest at first. One didn’t simply barrel down on a wolf after all. Just as he would the real beast, Roose had laid a trap for the young wolf, plying him with warmed wine and a deceptive formality. He couldn’t be distracted and lead, he ought to let Roose relieve him. He was unbalanced, and there was time before he took a wife. Roose would have liked to make the boy lick his own seed from his gloves but he settled for cleaning himself on the boy’s sheets.

Now Robb sat spread legged in his war room, Roose’s hands on his chin and inner thigh, thankfully unarmored. A better man would have refused him but Robb was a weak and trusting boy, with a boy’s predictable lusts.

Roose was armored and armed as to march and enforce his will on the rare chance Robb resisted. Instead the boy shed his clothes with half an hour to their meet with his other bannermen.

Robb had the broad shoulders of his Tully uncles but some of Eddard’s narrowness in his hips. He’d grown more muscles in his arms and thighs, his torso’s definition a testament to his handsome youth. The boy wasted no time, his nipples and cock both flushed and erect.

His freckled face grew red as well as he caught Roose looking over the length of his body appraisingly.

“Please. Before anyone enters. I need to be focused for the attack,” he pleaded. The boy’s lip quivered enticingly. “Please.”

Robb begging always did the trick. It brought to mind how lovely it’d be to have him as a captive begging for his life, or kept spread and collared as a bed warmer while his new wife was with child.

Though Robb had become more accustomed to fitting a cock, he’d still need to be oiled and spread before being more thoroughly fucked. Robb gestured at a small bottle as he bent himself enticingly over the map, swaying his swipe slightly.

Roose removed his gloves, tucking them into his sword belt.

“If you insist, your grace.”

Roose cupped the underhalf of the boys’s  rear and spread him. Ginger hair covered the back of his thighs and ran across his perineum, thinning before the pucker of his ass.

Robb gasped as Roose initially nudged two slicked fingers inside him, slowly working him up to his second knuckle. Robb was tight, his body reflexively squeezing and tugging Roose’s fingers deeper due to the natural suction.

“That’s. That’s...”

Robb trailed off mid sentence, rocking back into the penetration.

“Hush, your grace. You don’t want to be discovered,” Roose reminded him. That would certainly be interesting, explaining to Catelyn Stark how her son had come to be begging to be split open on his cock. If they were wedded, he wouldn’t be opposed to laying with her either. Ramsay had put a dampen on his interest in extramarital pursuits, but Catelyn Stark was a decent pick for a wife, savy and fertile though her headstrong nature would have to be broken in. She’d be tougher than Robb for certain.

Robb whimpered biting down on his own lip to keep quiet.

“Very good, your grace. Only a little longer,” Roose sighed, letting his breath tickle against Robb’s neck.

Roose pressed deeper. He didn’t particularly care if the boy teared, though he ought to pretend he did.

Robb arched his hips back, and began his climax unceremoniously with a soft pathetic noise and a shake in his thighs.

His seed spread across his stomach and Robb slumped forward as Roose pulled out of him.

“Get dressed while I wash myself,” Roose bid him. Robb nodded absently as he stumbled back into his clothes and made himself presentable.

“Straighten you hair and put in your crown. You have a war to win.”


End file.
